At my desk, on Monday morning, lacking will

First, i stack everything neatly.

Then, i go to the kitchen
for a cup of coffee.

i return to my office:
the stacks wait;
my duties deliquesce
like corpses in a morgue.

Is it time yet
for a mid-morning snack,
i wonder . . .

The red voice-mail light blinks;
i am astonished,
my reverie shattered,
when someone plunges
into my fish-bowl world,
all efficiency and effort:

i have come untethered.

My heart and soul are
But i am

In this slow,
silent lesson,
this steady acceleration
into the wall
of the World,
i brace myself

for collision
with my fears.

--Mr. Gobley

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